January was a mess. Crazy. I gained six pounds. But that's all over now because February is my new January. I will move forward with the year, working on my goals and aspirations with top of the list being to lose that six pounds!
Sometimes one's balancing act gets tipsy. It may be a dramatic change in routine, or a tragic event, or a series of stressful occurences that end up overwhelming and upsetting the equilibrium. When that happens, people react in different ways. I wish that my way were to clean out closets and run five miles every day. Wouldn't that be nice? But I'm a writer, so I write and write and write until it all becomes clear. Without time to write in my journal, the muddiness lasts longer.
I know people say to save our journals for posterity but I don't think posterity wants the mess that are my journals of the past decade or longer. Back when I was going through the bound, purchased journals in 3 months, I decided our budget needed me to change tactics. Now I fill binders with paper that's blank on one side. Being in love with paper, I save it and have stacks of it, more than enough to feed my writing addiction. I punch holes in this "scratch paper," fill a fat, three-ring binder and voila-- a new journal!
I save these journals in boxes, on shelves, stacked on desks. My current one of course is right next to my writing chair. Sometimes if I wake up early with a troubled mind, I'll spend a few hours before I start my day figuring it all out in my journal. It works like magic. On my other blog I said I didn't know where I would be without books. I could add journals to that. I can't imagine life without them. Not for posterity, for me! Well, and for the people who have to live with me. I'd be so messed up without my journal writing.
What is your personal form of psychotherapy? If you say cleaning out closets and jogging five miles, we can still be friends but I will be very jealous.